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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205556">My Best Habit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/todxrxki/pseuds/todxrxki'>todxrxki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Friend Appreciation Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Kuroo Tetsurou, a lot of sadness and self-deprecation in this one please be warned, but it ends up happy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:00:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/todxrxki/pseuds/todxrxki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In theory, Kuroo knows that he’s important to Kenma.</p><p>They’ve been friends for years, after all. Kuroo knows Kenma. He knows that Kenma wouldn’t keep him around this long if he didn’t actually care about Kuroo on some level. But, unfortunately for Kuroo, it’s hard for Kuroo to truly accept this as the truth. / In which Kuroo doubts himself, but Kenma never does.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Friend Appreciation Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>My favorite haikyuu fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Best Habit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogony/gifts">cosmogony</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm a bitter little pill to swallow</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm a little bit of letdown, my</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My feet are hard to follow</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(My best habit's letting you down)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>- My Best Habit, The Maine</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>In theory, Kuroo knows that he’s important to Kenma.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’ve been friends for years, after all. Kuroo knows Kenma. He knows that Kenma wouldn’t keep him around this long if he didn’t actually care about Kuroo on some level. But, unfortunately for Kuroo, it’s hard for Kuroo to truly accept this as the truth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's something he’d started to question from a young age. Kuroo was smart; objectively, he knew this, but Kenma was on another level. The strategies Kenma  thought of were like no other. He could kick Kuroo’s ass at any game he picked up. The little jokes he made under his breath were so much funnier than anything Kuroo could come up with. He started feeling as though he was one step behind Kenma, always just one step behind. Back in high school was when the real questioning started. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma stuck with him, sure. He went to Nekoma, even joined the team at Kuroo’s urging. But as the years went by, Kuroo started to notice things. He noticed the way that Kenma smiled bigger around other people than he did when he talked to Kuroo, the way that he’d laugh more, the way he’d talk more. It planted the seed of doubt in his mind: a seed that’s only grown ever since.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now that they're even older, it has become even more difficult for Kuroo to remember. They’d ended up moving in together, but Kuroo can’t help but wonder if it’d been the right move for Kenma. Kenma, after all, could have lived anywhere he wanted. And sometimes Kenma makes offhand comments: comments about how small the place is, or how loud Kuroo is, and Kuroo’s head starts swimming with thoughts. Had he pressured Kenma into this somehow? Did Kenma even want this? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thoughts along these lines only grow louder as Kuroo sits on the couch in their house. It’s Sunday - Kuroo and Kenma typically spend their Sundays together, watching stupid movies or playing games or, sometimes, going shopping, Kenma hiding his face in his phone the whole time. But today Kenma’s getting ready to go somewhere. He’s in the bathroom, combing through his long hair for once in his life, and Kuroo thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the hell?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kenma,” he calls. “Are you going somewhere?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma peeks out from behind the door. “Yeah,” he says, his voice flat and barely audible. “Keiji’s in town, and he has a day off, for once in his life. I told him I’d meet him for dinner.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Kuroo manages. There are a thousand different thoughts floating through his mind - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why wasn’t I invited?</span>
  </em>
  <span>, first of all, and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keiji?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kenma calls a lot of people by their first names.  The first one that comes to Kuroo’s mind is the Shrimp, paired with Kenma’s blissful expression as he says </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shouyou. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There’s also Yamamoto, who Kenma calls </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tora, </span>
  </em>
  <span>of course. He’s never heard Kenma refer to Akaashi by his first name before now, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hang on, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, the panic in his chest rising. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is this a date?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma raises an eyebrow at him. “Is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo opens his mouth as if to ask, but no words come out. He doesn’t want to know, he finds. If this is a date, he’d rather live in blissful ignorance. He’d rather just pretend that he and Kenma are both single. Because it’d hurt otherwise, worse than anything he’s experienced in his short life so far. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing is that he’s well aware that he’s been in love with Kenma for going on three years now. He’s also well aware that while he might be important to Kenma, he’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>important to Kenma. Otherwise Kenma wouldn’t have made plans with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keiji </span>
  </em>
  <span>on their usual day together  - plans that apparently don’t, and won’t, involve Kuroo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bites his lip. He shouldn’t be upset, he knows. A good best friend would be happy that Kenma’s finding love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too bad he’s apparently not a good best friend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kuroo makes himself say. He turns back to the TV in front of him, playing some movie Kuroo’s seen a thousand times on a muted volume. “Yeah, of course. I think I’m just hungry or something.” He manages a smile. “Have fun on your dinner date.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s a subtle way of putting it, right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a date,” Kenma calls back. Kenma’s words bring Kuroo a weird feeling of relief, but he’s not completely sure that he believes Kenma. Kenma probably wouldn’t tell him if it was a date. Besides, even if it’s not a date, that doesn’t mean that Kenma’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>into </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akaashi. After all, he’s still ditching Kuroo on their </span>
  <em>
    <span>day</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go hang out with Akaashi.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He groans, staring up at the ceiling. One of these days, he knows, Kenma’s going to find someone. Even if not Akaashi, someone else. They’ll be gorgeous and smart and funny and probably snarky and good at video games and technology and everything that Kuroo’s not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><em><span>God, </span></em><span>Kuroo thinks as Kenma emerges from the bathroom. Kenma looks more done-up than usual, his ponytail more organized, with only a few long pieces falling out to frame his face. He’s positively captivating. His eyes seem even more brilliant than they usually do, the look in them sharp as he observes Kuroo.</span> <span>Kuroo’s known for the longest time that Kenma’s on another level from everyone else altogether.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s just becoming more and more obvious that Kenma’s on a completely different level from Kuroo himself, too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be back later,” Kenma says. He pauses for a second, then says, “Want me to pick up some of that cake you like on the way home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Kuroo says, his throat dry. Most people probably wouldn’t expect it of him, but Kenma knows how to be considerate, too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Which just makes him even more of a catch, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kuroo thinks bitterly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door closes behind Kenma. A chill runs down Kuroo’s spine, and Kuroo’s head immediately goes into code red. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not good enough for him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks. It stings. He wants more than anything to be worthy of Kenma. He wants to be good-looking enough, funny enough, not loud and obnoxious and overall </span>
  <em>
    <span>unworthy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thinks back to the look on Kenma’s face as he’d left. Had Kenma found him and his questions annoying? Would this just drive Kenma further away?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo digs his nails into his palm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unworthy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The word plays on repeat in his head. He loves Kenma, so much that he hardly knows what to do with it. But he knows that in the end, if Kenma were to date someone else, someone better than Kuroo, that he’d have to accept it. However much it hurts Kuroo in the end, it’d be worth it as long as Kenma is happy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>have to destroy anyone who hurt Kenma. He has principles, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head hurts with all the thoughts that keep plaguing him. He drags himself off of the couch and over to the bathroom mirror, peering at his reflection. His eyes are red; he wants to cry, but feels he can’t quite get the tears out, and there are red marks on his palms from where he’d dug his nails into them. His hair’s a mess, more now than ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Look at yourself, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his mind says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Look at the mess you are. You think </span>
  </em>
  <span>that </span>
  <em>
    <span>could ever be what Kenma wants? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. The answer is clearly no. Kuroo chokes out a half-formed sob into the sink, lowering his head so that the cold water washes over his face. He’s beyond pathetic. The love of his life is on a date-that’s-not-a-date with someone else, and here he is crying into the bathroom sink. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pathetic. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Absolutely pathetic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, is he glad Kenma can’t see him now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He dwells on that for a second, thinks about how Kenma would react. He knows that Kenma would probably find him pathetic as well. This is a side of himself he doesn’t show to anyone. But he can’t help wondering if Kenma has an inkling that he’s feeling this way. Kenma occasionally seems to know him better than he knows himself, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chokes out another sob into the water. The only person who will ever know Kuroo that well, inside and out, and yet he doesn’t love Kuroo the way Kuroo loves him. He’s about to spiral further down that train of thought when the distinctive sound of the door opening sounds through the house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo shoots up, the tears freezing on his cheek. Kenma definitely shouldn’t be back this early. Are they being robbed? Holy shit - should he call the police? He’s got one hand on his phone, about to dial the emergency number, when “Kuro?” rings through the house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo sags in relief, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Kenma?” he asks, his voice coming out hoarse. He coughs to get it back to normal, then says, “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keiji got an SOS call from Bokuto,” Kenma says. “Apparently he went into emo mode and needed Akaashi or something. But it’s probably for the best because I had a weird feeling about tonight, and - “ Kenma rounds the corner, stopping short once he lays eyes on Kuroo. “And shit, apparently my weird feeling was right. What happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Kuroo croaks out. He leans back against the bathroom wall, trying to get his breath back. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A little late for that,” Kenma says. He steps forward, the look of concern on his face only growing as he approaches Kuroo. “You look like shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the high praise,” Kuroo gripes. “Always appreciated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t, I just…” Kenma trails off. “Fuck, Kuro. I’m worried. You don’t cry a lot.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I try not to,” Kuroo says, exhaling. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to keep his voice and expression even as he says, “It’s seriously fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The hell it is.” Kenma takes another step forward, slowly wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s waist and resting his head there. It sends a shiver down Kuroo’s spine. He’s tempted to step away, because there’s something about this that’s just too </span>
  <em>
    <span>much, </span>
  </em>
  <span>especially knowing that this, to Kenma, is just a simple gesture of friendship. “Talk to me,” Kenma says into his chest, and his voice wavers a little as he finishes it with, “Please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s too much, it’s too much. Kuroo does not have the power to resist Kenma when he sounds like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He sighs. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to explain it, but… you ever feel like you’re not good enough?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma stares at him, like he’s trying to process this. “Not good enough for what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Kuroo says, a little helplessly. He’s never been exactly good at verbalizing his emotions; though, at least, he’s always been better than Kenma at this small skill. “Just in general.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma stays quiet for a second, and Kuroo wonders. Most of the time it’s easy enough to tell what’s going on in Kenma’s head. He thinks of most things like a game to be played, a final boss to be conquered. This, though - emotions, specifically negative ones - falls far outside the realm of what Kenma’s comfortable with. But then he says, “I don’t see how that’s true.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s so matter-of-fact that it takes Kuroo by surprise. He blinks, staring down at the top of his best friend’s head. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I don’t see any way in which you’re not good enough,” Kenma says bluntly. “You’re intelligent. You’re near the top of your class at college, which you’ve never told me because you don’t like to brag but I know regardless. You’re funny, but don’t quote me on that.” Kuroo snorts, wiping at the corners of his eyes, and Kenma continues. “You’re a good friend and just a good person overall. It was so obvious in the way that you acted as the captain. You were even patient with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lev, </span>
  </em>
  <span>which is ridiculous. And…” Kenma looks away, not meeting Kuroo’s eyes. “It’s not like you’re ugly or anything.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Is that a blush on Kenma’s cheeks? It disappears quickly, though, as he looks back up at Kuroo firmly. “I don’t see any possible way in which you’re not good enough.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo’s words catch in his throat. There’s such a look of determination in his eyes that it’s almost enough for Kuroo to believe him - </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha,” Kuroo says, and then, doing his best to sound ironic, “be careful. It almost sounds like you like me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma’s gaze darts back to the ground, and the weird pink flush creeps back into his cheeks. He keeps his gaze on the ground as he says, “I don’t know why you think I don’t. You’re my best friend. You know that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Kuroo says. He doesn’t know what else to say, so it’s his turn to look away uncomfortably. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Kenma asks. He’s quiet for another second, like he’s waiting for Kuroo to speak further, but Kuroo can’t. His voice is small as he says, “Did I do something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo sighs, giving Kenma a tiny smile as he shakes his head. “No. No, of course not. I’m just being a dumbass, you know me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Says the guy who tutored me all through high school,” Kenma says, raising an eyebrow at him. “What’s going on?” He glances down at his phone, then his brow creases. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> - there’s no way you figured out what I’m upset about,” Kuroo says, half-teasing but also half-serious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Sunday,” Kenma says. Kuroo blinks at him in surprise, and Kenma narrows his eyes. “What, you think I don’t realize these things just because I don’t say them out loud? We usually hang out on Sunday. I just… it was the only day that Akaashi was free this week, so I didn’t think you’d mind this one time. I should’ve said something, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kuroo jumps in quickly. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty about it. Shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Kenma says. “You didn’t do it on purpose, Kuro. I don’t think that this is just about this one instance, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Kuroo admits, staring down at the ground again. “It’s not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Kenma says. “But I don’t mind listening.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t mind listening. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There’s something about this statement, combined with the look on Kenma’s face - one of absolute trust and sincerity, that strikes a chord within Kuroo. It’s that, combined with an intense desire to just get it out there and a curiosity about the blush that had stained Kenma’s cheeks, that breaks him. He finds himself blurting out before he can stop himself, “I think that I’m in love with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Kenma says. His expression remains impassive for a moment, and Kuroo holds his breath, waiting for what Kenma’s going to say. It’s going to be a rejection, he’s sure of it. He’s not on Kenma’s level, not even close - but then Kenma says, “Well, that shouldn’t be bothering you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why does Kenma insist on being cryptic at the worst of times?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kuroo thinks despairingly.  “What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too,” Kenma says, lifting a shoulder in a semblance of a shrug. “Of course I do. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, y’know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo lets one of his hands drift to his arm. He pinches the flesh there, hard enough to sting, and then winces. “This has to be a dream,” he half-whispers. “This can’t be happening.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is, though,” Kenma says, and the corner of his mouth turns up, and it’s the most beautiful smile Kuroo’s ever seen. Kenma takes a tiny step back. Kuroo’s about to complain when Kenma leans up, pressing a tiny kiss to the corner of Kuroo’s mouth. He pulls back. Kuroo’s sure that his eyes are wide and there’s red staining his cheeks, but he can’t find the words to apologize, and Kenma’s smile grows a little bit. “Anyways, just tell me if you’re having dumb worries like that. You scared me to death.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kuroo manages to get out, “What if I’m not good enough for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma’s smile falls slightly. “Funny thing is,” he says, “I was kinda thinking the same thing, but reversed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That, Kuroo thinks, might be the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “But it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>- and you’re amazing, and gorgeous, and talented, and holy shit, Kenma - “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See, that’s how I feel about you,” Kenma tells him. “I think we have some fucked-up perceptions of ourselves we have to work on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>That much Kuroo can acknowledge. He nods. “Yeah,” he says. “But, hey, we can work on them together, huh?” He gives him a smile, finally - a probably crooked smile, but it’s one of the utmost sincerity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenma rests his head back against Kuroo’s chest and Kuroo latches on immediately, wrapping his arms tightly around Kenma’s middle. “I love you so much,” he says into Kenma’s hair, giving Kenma’s back a gentle rub.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” Kenma says, and Kuroo figures he’s had about enough of sentimentality for one night, which given Kenma’s low tolerance in general is understandable. But then he whispers a quiet “Me too,” into Kuroo’s chest, and Kuroo’s chest warms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not easy to accept, Kuroo thinks, that he can be significant in the life of someone like Kozume Kenma. But it’s slightly easier to believe when Kenma’s right here, in his arms, telling him what he’s wanted to hear for so long and making Kuroo feel like he never wants to move again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(And, apparently, not dating Akaashi, because shockingly enough, he’s in love with Kuroo.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone!<br/>I wanted a way to show my friends how much I appreciate them, and unfortunately my only talent at the moment is writing, so here's the first of many fics to show the people in my life how amazing they are to me. <br/>Christy, this first one's for you!! You said you wanted hurt/comfort or angst, and this was all I could come up with, so I hope that you enjoy it! You're an amazing friend and human being and I can't express how blessed I am to have you in my life. I honestly wish there was more I could do to express my appreciation for all you've done for me, but I hope this can show at least a little bit? I love you lots and lots!!<br/>(P.S. I know I hurt Kuroo in this fic a tiny bit but I am STILL NOT a Kuroo anti &lt;3)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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